


Sweet Cerulean Liquor

by kiyyeisanerd



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Schlong, Alternate Universe - Bounty Hunters, Androids, M/M, Oviposition, Shapeshifting, Xenophilia, blue liquor of dubious alcoholic content, but theyre both kinda immune to alcohol anyway so thats completely irrelevant, come inflation i guess?, key word: somewhat, or I guess cyborgs maybe? idk really what dirk is supposed to be but hes a Robot Man, porn with only enough pretense of a plot for me to somewhat retain my dignity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 18:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18555154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyyeisanerd/pseuds/kiyyeisanerd
Summary: Jake is a bounty hunter with ineffable shapeshifting powers. Dirk is some kind of nondescript android guy. They bone pretty hard.





	Sweet Cerulean Liquor

**Author's Note:**

> A somewhat serious but mostly pretty silly encounter between two horny dudes who are just mutually into some kinky shit. They're also bounty hunters on a spaceship, and Jake has some vaguely defined shapeshifting powers, and Dirk is a robo dude??? Check the endnotes if you wanna see more detailed warnings, but truly this is just some good, clean ovi.

Jake twirls his ray gun in circles, whistling some tuneless bullshit. He sits on the kitchenette counter with one boot propped up on a stool. One _dirty_ boot that he did not bother to remove before taking over your furniture like some kind of renegade antihero with no goddamn manners.

“If you’re trying to get me horny by playing with firearms and sitting like a tool, it’s not working.”

He fumbles his gun, lays it quickly by his side, and picks his feet up to swing them in front of him. “Sorry! Getting a bit spacey over here.”

He laughs at his own pun after a second. You raise an eyebrow and drag your gaze over him in a purposefully suggestive manner. Maybe a little judgemental, too.

The guy seems genuinely nervy alone with you on your ship. For a bounty hunter whose whole shtick is supposedly limitless intensity and charisma, he strikes you as a little off his game. Not that he’s ever really lived up to his reputation, but at least on your missions he’s been _competent_. Not the gun-fumbling type, you thought.

“Drink?” you offer.

“Oh, sure!”

You stand and cross behind the counter to the fridge. Awkwardly, Jake tries to crane his neck to follow you without pulling his feet onto the counter. He fails miserably and goes back to staring straight ahead.

You mix up two glasses of this bright blue punchy stuff Ro-Lal gave you the other week. Jake always orders the weirdest, glowiest shit when you’re at bars off-mission, so you figure he’ll appreciate the color.

He eyes the drinks with surprise when you circle back around to the front of the counter.

“Wow, groovy!” he comments.

You hand him a glass. “I noticed you have a thing for neon blues.”

He chokes a little as he sips. “That was—in response to your comment, not the drink. The drink is really good, honest,” he coughs.

You… can’t gauge his seriousness there, so you take a slow sip waiting for him to elaborate.

He pauses, red in the cheeks. “I, er, I do have a thing for neon blues.”

Weird fetish, but okay? “Lucky for you, then. The pigment in this,” you swirl your cup, “makes my circuitry go all cerulean for a good hour or so. I usually avoid dyes for that exact reason, but for you I can make an exception.”

You were mostly kidding, but Jake nearly balks at you. “Really? Golly, Strider, indulge a man too much and you might get diminishing returns if you know what I’m saying! Not that I’m at all discouraging your… intake of blue fluids, though.”

You take another huge gulp of the blue drink and raise your glass affirmatively.

“I’m awful grateful for your letting me stay the night and all,” he continues. “I usually do fine scoping out hotels if I’m too far from home base, but all the joints around here want my head on a pole ‘cause of this stunt I pulled a couple years back with an antique hunting rifle and a lovely lady friend of mine…”

That’s a lot to unpack. “If you try to involve any antique hunting rifles in the bedroom with me tonight, you’ll be hotel fishing as soon as you can say ‘not my kink’.”

He sputters. “That’s not what I meant! Of course I would never… wait, tonight?”

You stare blankly. “You’ve been flirting with me all week and now you’re sleeping on my ship. I figured eventual horseplay was an inevitable development we both sort of had in mind coming into this situation. According to the bounty hunter tabloids, you fuck a new girl every time we hop galaxies, so I assumed you’d be down. My predictive algorithms are far from perfect, though, so by all means correct me if I’m wrong.”

“There are… bounty hunter tabloids? And they talk about me?”

“No, dude, fuck, that was a joke. An ironic joke to make a point about your reputation.”

“Oh,” he winces. “I suppose you’re right about that. I’m no stranger to love, as human pop legend Rick Astley would have put it. I just thought this had a different… vibe? I dunno. Not that I’m against the idea—and I definitely have been flirting with you all week, no deceptions there.”

“What kind of vibe?” you prompt.

“I don’t know. I suppose it feels different because we’re work relations? Or hell, maybe just because we already know each other. I think most of my most promiscuous escapades intentionally skirt around the romantic part of romance, and leveling myself up against a tip-top gent like yourself who I really admire puts everything on a different playing field.”

“You’ve… never had sex with someone you actually care about? Is that what I’m getting here?”

Jake drains the rest of his drink. “You don’t have to put it so pessimistically. Glass half full, Dirk.”

“My glass is half full. _Your_ glass is completely empty,” you point out.

“Right. Could I bother for a refill?”

You finish your glass and set it down on the counter. Jake practically squirms in place as you bring out the bottle again and pour two more servings of neon space booze. You don’t even know if the stuff has alcohol in it; substances don’t affect your systems, so you never bother to ask Roxy what she’s filling your fridge with.

“So you _really_ have a thing for blue shit, huh,” you say, kicking back half your glass in a couple gulps.

Jake stares at your throat. Hey, if chugging cerulean liquor is going to get him all riled up, you’re happy to deliver. Recently divulged attachment issues aside, you are still totally hoping to mack on English tonight. Developing dangerous attractions to your coworkers is one of your favorite past times. Who can blame you? Bounty hunters are a bunch of handsome gunslinging assholes.

You pour yourself another cup.

“Leapin lasers, Strider, I think you have some kind of psychic ability you’re using to push all my buttons.”

“As an android, I’m an expert button pusher. And I _am_ rumored to have psychic powers.”

He licks his lips, sipping absentmindedly. His eyes drag over your skin like he’s looking for hints of blue, which he probably is.

“If you think blue skin is so sexy, why don’t you just shapeshift yourself some? Or is that not how your powers work?” you ask.

“Hm? I suppose I could do that. I find it more alluring on others, though,” he clarifies, as if that should have been obvious.

You stare at him while gulping down another cup. He hops off the counter and takes a step in toward you.

“That reminds me,” he says. “I usually ask my lovemaking partners whether they have any form they'd prefer I take. I can do almost anything you dream up.”

“... You’re asking if I want you to shapeshift into a famous person or some shit when we have sex?” you ask.

He nods in confirmation. It’s a tempting offer, but you’ve got enough of a hard-on for his roguish assassin persona as it is.

“I’m attracted to a lot of people, but one of those people happens to be you, so I think I’ll take the original package,” you tell him.

Jake blinks at you. “You want me to stay in this form?”

“Yes. Stay in this one,” you say. Maybe it’ll do something for his wildly inconsistent self-esteem.

He smiles and moves in half a step closer. “Blimey. You’re the second person who’s asked me that! I must’ve done a grade A job with this build, then.”

At this point, you set your glass down on the stool beside you and start getting handsy with him. “Wait, you mean this isn’t your… I dunno. True form? Original form?”

“Far from it. I don’t much have a true form, if I’m honest.” He slides his hands under your shirt, up your back.

“I think I’ve been conceptualizing your whole shapeshifting deal completely wrong. I thought you could only do people you’ve seen?” Your body presses up close against his.

He makes a little laughing sound through his nose. “Of course not! I can do any person or creature or thing in the purview of my vast imagination. Which is, just between you and I, pretty flippin vast.”

This throws a number of new variables into mix. Jake puts his mouth on your neck as you pause to consider, your circuitry whizzing.

Jake English could be anyone in the world, and he chose to be a twunkish human male with terrible fashion sense. It’s certainly... a bold statement.

“Does that mean you can do… individual parts?” you ask.

“I can,” he answers, lips still touching your jaw. “You sound like you have a special request for me.”

“How about we take this to the bedroom before you end up fucking me over the kitchen counter, and then we can feel out any special requests that pop into my mind?”

He pulls away, still holding your waist, and kisses your right hand like some kind of dashing celebrity.

Your skin is practically turquoise now. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

“The bedroom sounds like a fantastic destination,” he says.

 

* * *

 

Jake crawls on top of you and starts ravaging your chest. Both of you have shed your shirts and jackets. You’re actually not wearing _anything_ at the moment, because Jake insisted on seeing all of your “beautiful blue complexion,” but he’s still got his cargo pants on. You can only imagine how many fuel clips and old wrappers those pockets are filled with, but you’re not quite willing to ruin the moment yet by making him get off you.

“Ohhh, Jake,” you moan, your voice glitch-cracking as soon as he starts kissing down your stomach. Lousy vocal processors.

He looks up and raises a brow at you. In your minds eye, you flush cerulean. You guess if you’re allowed to clock his kinks, he’s allowed to clock yours.

He spends another minute sensually thumbing over your abdomen—which is _much_ appreciated, holy shit—before finally sitting up to unbutton his pants.

“Wait—” you say, “is that offer still on the table? About special requests?”

“Oh, absolutely it still is!” he replies, pausing with his hands on the waistband of his boxers. “Anything you desire.”

“... How freaky are you willing to get?”

“This is space, Strider. We’ve seen the freakiest of the freaky and neither of us have batted an eye. Remember that tentacley thing back on… Oh where was it…”

“Xenon Alpha?”

“Yes! The feisty little bugger!”

“Yeah okay, so we killed a tentacle monster for a job. That doesn’t mean you would shapeshift your dick into a tentacle monster for me. Does it?”

He deadpans. “If I have the balls to kill something, I have the balls to someday turn into it. That’s my official policy.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Alright, okay, understood. I was thinking something a little more… bad alien porn-y. With ridges and stuff. Maybe some water-soluble glowy fake eggs or something, I dunno. They can be blue if you want.”

Jake lights up. “Most certainly! Golly, Dirk, that’s a tall order but you’re in luck because I am fully prepared to deliver!”

He hops off the bed to stand and pull off his pants, kicking them into the corner of your room. You watch as he grips his exceedingly normal human dick by the base and squints at it a little, focusing you guess. It starts to glow with a whitish light, which momentarily blinds you. You put a hand in front of your eyes reflexively.

When the light dims, you look back at Jake. He has... new equipment. The shaft is long and predictably cobalt colored, ridged intermittently on both sides like you asked. It tapers somewhat at the end, but there’s a veiny-looking tube running the length of the underside that you can definitely guess the purpose of.

You whistle softly. Jake looks up at you as if he forgot you were there, beaming. “Pretty spiffy, isn’t it?”

“It would be spiffier if it were in my ass,” you comment, attempting some dry humor but fucking up the delivery with the obvious honrniness factor emanating from your syllables.

Jake climbs back up on the bed to straddle you, his new dirk-ruining alien dick already glistening. It probably auto-slicks itself up like they do in all the pornos. You wonder briefly if that means you and Jake watch the same kind of pornos?

Jake circles a finger around your entrance, interrupting your train of thought. “Fuckkk, dude, yes,” you encourage.

He puts a hand on your thigh and hoists your leg up to hook over his shoulder. “Alley-oop,” he warns before performing a similar maneuver on your other leg. You’re finding it hard to care about position acrobatics when there is an alien schlong yet to be inside of you.

Luckily, he at least slips his finger in to start you off. You gasp and shut your eyes, jerking your hips up to push it in further.

“Crikey, Strider, you are one handsome specimen. I should do this more often.”

You moan as he twists and curls his finger, opening you up. “I thought you had sex like, fucking, all the time?”

“Oh, no, I do! But I’ve never done it with a gent.”

You gape at him. “What? Seriously? Never ever?”

He starts pumping his dick to slick it up as he fingers you. “Nnnope, never ever. I was never sure if I was into fellas. Of course, I can see now that I most definitely and enthusiastically am. Your shiny, toned muscles really rev my engines, man.”

“Dude,” your voice cracks as he slides in another finger, “you’re a fucking, mnhh, shapeshifter, why do you have any concept of gender roles?”

“Oh, I uhm,” he laughs, “I grew up with a lot of outdated human television. Did a number on my internal prejudices.”

You’re about to go on a tangent about why that’s both extremely unfortunate and extremely stupid, but Jake preemptively shuts you up by pressing the tip of his massive fucking cock against your hole. Thank god it’s not very thick, because you’re already doubtful the whole thing is going to fit in you. You suppose if that becomes an issue Jake could just kind of… shorten it?

Your moans briefly turn to a lower res audio quality when Jake starts pushing it in. “Oh, _god_ , yes—sorry about the static, sometimes my systems don’t prioritize the right— _fuck_.”

“I don’t mind! In fact, I find it a little bit sexy,” he says, gasping as he pushes past the first cluster of ridges, which feel fucking amazing.

“You’re into some pretty weird stuff,” you remark, biting your lip through a mouthful of x-rated noises.

“You’re the one who’s into ridges and eggs,” he retorts, sliding further into you. The ridges are goddamn _perfect_ ; they’re just pliable enough that they don’t chafe like those stupid cheapie ribbed dildo things you used to buy, and they catch in all the right places.

“Ffffuck, Jake, you are so goddamn sexy.”

You open your eyes for a second and find him gazing over your arms and chest like he’s going to eat you. Honestly, if this was a random hookup and you didn’t already know his dork ass, you would probably be genuinely afraid of developments swinging into vore territory. You’re not in the mood to get eaten today.

Jake groans as he pushes the last bit of his dick into you. You thrust your hips and arch your back, trying to settle on it but failing because it’s _so fucking big_. You feel like you’re being impaled on a long, fleshy xeno-sword. But like, in a sexy way. You’re kind of into impalement anyway.

“Dirk,” he moans, “this was a marvelous idea. You good?”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut again. “Yes, god, I’m good, I’m so good.”

“Mmm, you ready, then?” he asks.

“Ready for… Oh, right, for the— _god,_ yes, I am.”

Jake nods and starts rocking into you slowly, hands splayed under your ass to hold you up. You feel something push up against your entrance and slowly slide past, expanding again once it’s further inside you. It’s heavier than expected, which is a pleasant surprise, you think.

“That feel okay?”

“Yeah, fuck,” you nod vigorously, “weird but so hot.”

Another egg pushes up against you, sliding in just as easily as the last one. You think you can feel the tube at the base of Jake’s shaft contracting with the effort it takes to move the thing up through you, which is incredibly arousing.

Jake works you into a rhythm. You rock your hips up as he thrusts, and after every ten-thrust or so interval another egg will make its way into you. The mechanics of laying eggs in a real human ass always mystified you, and they continue to mystify you as they play out in real time, but all of your organs are made from synthetic nanofibers anyway, so you have no reason to worry about damage to your GI tract or whatever. Jake also has magic imagination powers that defy succinct description, so this is essentially risk-free egg fantasy territory. You take as many as you can with reckless, lustful abandon.

“Fuck,” you moan, cracking your eyes to look at your slightly swollen lower stomach, “you really did make them blue.”

“Hope that’s alright,” Jake says, thrusting and jostling your glowing blue abdomen. “I can change ‘em if necessary.”

“Can you make them like,” you gasp as another egg pushes against your entrance, “cycle through a bunch of colors like one of those LED keyboards?”

Jake laughs. “Sure can do!”

Your taught skin glows like sweet gamer tech now. It’s a strange feeling of fullness, a completely different feeling from your typical distended gut, mostly because it’s concentrated in the bottom curve of your stomach. You feel it heavy and uneven and slowly moving upward, agitating near-uncomfortably every time your hips jerk. The many glasses of sweet cerulean liquor you downed earlier slosh around in your upper abdomen, but the eggs are packed pretty tight, sitting more like jelly than any kind of liquid.

“Fuck, fuck, Jake, I can’t take much more,” you tell him, voice broken and low-res. “It’s so good, _fuck_.”

“Nnng, Dirk,” he thrusts into you, “that’s—ahh—not a problem because I am so damn near close.”

You tilt your head back and focus on the feeling of his ridges catching on you as he moves faster, your full belly almost bouncing as you rock with him. It’s so much but it’s so good and _fuck_ this is going to be masturbation fuel for a long ass time. You are so glad you decided to capitalize on the shapeshifter powers instead of taking things slow and stupid like a vanilla idiot—

“Fuck, oh, Dirk!” Jake shouts as his hips stutter. You cry out as warm liquid pours into you, _way_ more liquid than a normal human dude would be capable of producing. It seeps up into the same space where all the kinky jelly eggs are somehow stored in you. The sensation is unbearably weird and more than a little sexy.

You gasp as you orgasm, your boring regular jizz splattering your LED stomach. Your voice clips in and out as you finish. You find it annoying and unsexy when it does that, but try as you might you can’t figure out any workarounds, so you just tune it out.

Jake doesn’t seem to mind as he slows to a stop. The two of you stay still and breathing for a long moment before he pulls out of you. You can’t help but moan as he extracts himself; every fucking ridge feels excruciatingly hard against your sensitive muscle. And you _know_ he could just shapeshift his massive space bazooka smooth again, but he chooses to enjoy watching you squirm. That’s pretty hot.

You’re left collapsed on the bed with at least two litres of goopy eggs up your ass, somehow. You feel like you just ran a fucking marathon, even if the whole ordeal didn’t last that long, all things considered.

“Aren’t you glad I didn’t make you turn into a famous person?” you sigh.

Jake flops down next to you, and you groan at how the bed bounces you up and down, disturbing your… contents. “So glad,” he says. “So very glad.”

“So… how do these lil bitches work?” you ask, poking your stomach lightly.

“Oh,” Jake laughs, “I can just poof ‘em whenever. Want me to do that now?”

“No!” you say, a little too fast. “No, not yet, fuckin hell. All that trouble, I at least want a little time to soak in the fruits of my labor.”

“I feel like there were probably at least three puns in that sentence, but I didn’t catch a single one of them,” he says.

“One of them definitely had to do with the word labor, but I already forgot, so don’t worry about it.” You shift your shoulders and slowly roll yourself onto your side, groaning as your stomach shifts with gravity. Artificial gravity, though—holy shit, what would this feel like if you turned the auto-grav off?

That’s an adventure for another day. Jake curls around you and lays a hand on your stomach, and you lift your head up so he can slide his arm under it.

“You can watch me sleep, if you’re into that,” you tell him.

“Oh, I was planning on it,” he smiles.

“Don’t poof any… things in the middle of the night, okay. Wait until morning for me to inevitably get fed up with this.”

“Roger that captain,” he nods. “Will standby.”

You don’t know where he’s pulling that title from—his ass, probably—but it’s cutesy enough that you feel a satisfying sense of closure to the whole encounter. You drift off to sleep in Jake’s arms. If androids dreamt, you’re sure you would be conjuring up some sick sleep sex all night long.

**Author's Note:**

> Detailed notes: ovi, I guess inflation also, xeno, imbibing fairly substantial quantities of a possibly alcoholic drink but not being affected by it at all really, shapeshifting shenanigans, lighthearted discussion of Jake's promiscuity and attachment issues. Alien dick with cool ridges. Mention of vore as a joke. Cargo pants. Also Dirk's skin turns blue.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!!! I've had this draft laying around for a while, so I figured I would clean it up and post in case anybody was looking for some fresh, no-strings-attached, fun kinky dirkjake porn after the meat/candy epilogues came out. My sassy bottom nondescript android dirk will never be tainted by the Dark Themes of canon <3


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